Naked Drunk on Aisle 12
by TacoCat4
Summary: Stella Hagan is a bored supermarket employee who is a fan of the Supernatural book series. Then she wakes up in a pineapple themed hotel room to find Sam Winchester threatening her with a machete. Soulless Sam. Scuba Demons. Dualing Hell royalty. The Angel's impossible request. The latest apocalypse. That Dean Winchester sure picked the wrong time to piss off the fairy king.
1. The One Where Everyone Wants Pudding

Note: Long time reader, first time posting. Please be nice.

Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.

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"Excuse me," a voice called. The speaker was in the periphery of her vision as she hauled the precariously stacked pallet of dog food through the store.

'Man,' Stella groaned inwardly as she brought the load to a halt, still afraid after all this time that the pallet would remain in motion and run her down despite her best efforts.

"Yes sir?" She turned on her most friendly customer service voice as she glanced in front of and then behind either side of her load in search of the speaker. "May I help you?"

"Yes," suddenly the customer was standing in front of her, nearly too close. She could smell the remnants of his after shave, as well as the strong odor of alcohol.

'Great,' she thought, 'another drunk.'

She'd been stopped by three tonight already. At this rate she would probably get called to the office and receive a long lecture about her lack of productivity.

"How may I help you?" Stella rephrased her question. The drunk in front of her responded by dropping his pants, throwing both arms into the air and helicoptering his manly bits.

"Pudding!" he shrieked.

"You can find that on aisle twelve, sir," Stella replied tonelessly. This wasn't her first encounter with the drunk and disorderly, and she had learned long ago that it was best not to engage with them. This man, however, exceeded her expectations. Upon learning where to find his precious pudding, he proceeded to grab the startled sales girl by the waist and sweep her backwards in a passionate kiss. If she was honest, it was the most action she'd had in a long time. As the man sauntered off leaving his pants behind, Stella pressed the talk button on her headset. "Naked drunk on aisle twelve."

"Aw hell," overnight manager Maxwell's voice echoed in her ear, "Another one?"

"Why do they all want pudding?" came Carla the cashier's input.

"Because pudding is awesome?" Suggested Sean the backroom supervisor.

"I know I'll never be able to look at the stuff the same way again." Stella answered dryly, resuming her task. She would be relieved when this night was finally over.

The music playing from the loud speaker throughout the store made her head hurt. It was a song she had loved at one point, before she had had to listen to it ten times in one shift. Now it made her nauseous whenever it played. She had dropped her pallet in the pets department, and had another in route to the canned vegetable aisle. Max had asked her to stock this one. It would be a monotonous task that would take her the rest of night.

She still had that awful song stuck in her head even as she drove home and let herself into her apartment. Stella yawned. The sun was just starting to rise.

Weasley, her enormous orange striped cat greeted her at the front door, and weaved between her feet as she crossed the living room and slumped onto the couch.

"Hey, buddy," she greeted the feline, her voice muffled by a mouth full of fur. The cat had leapt up on to her stomach and was sitting on her chest purring contentedly, his head on her face. The two stayed like that until the cat got bored and hopped off the couch, meowing loudly, probably wanting to be fed. Stella groaned, not eager to be back on her feet after her long night at work. "Yes master."

Once the cat was fed, she returned to her couch and picked up the _Supernatural_ book she was reading. The adventurous adventures of Sam and Dean never failed to make her temporarily forget about her pathetic life, her boring dead-end job and her freezer full of sad frozen dinners for one.

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	2. The One With The Machete

A/n: Thanks so much to everyone who showed interest in this with your Follows and Favorites. That was really surprising, but in a good way of course!

Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.

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Stella awoke with a start. The crick in her neck was a testament to the strange position she had fallen asleep in. With a yawn, she arched her back to work out some of the kinks and then placed her feet on the floor. She half expected to trip over her cat and hit her head on the coffee table, as she was convinced that was how she would die someday. To her surprise, the floor was further away than she had anticipated, and as a result she fell off of the couch and into it.

"Mumph," She grumbled as she ate the carpet. Sometimes she was grateful that she lived alone and that Weasley couldn't talk. She could feel him judging her though. "Stop judging me, you goofy cat."

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" A man yelled angrily just feet away.

'What in the hell?' she thought, rolling over onto her back and looking around in horror. Somebody was in her apartment! Instead the look clarified that she was in a hotel room that apparently had a pineapple theme going on, and that there was a very tall, very angry man looming over her with a machete.

"Aw shit."

"I'm counting to three, then I'm gonna start swinging." The man warned. "One…Two…Thre-

"Please don't murder me. I'm Stella Hagan? I work the night shift at Super Stuff World? I have no idea what's going on."

"Three!" in a flash of metal, the machete swung towards her and she was sure she was going to die….only…she didn't. Somehow, instincts that she hadn't even known that she possessed kicked in and she rolled out of reach just in time as the machete struck the floor with a muffled _thunk_ right where her neck had been. She didn't have time to relax though, because a loud roar told her that the man was coming for her again. This continued for a time, the big man swung his machete and Stella rolled away just before it killed her. Then as he was swinging for what felt like the hundredth time, Stella was struck with a new idea. It was like nothing she had ever done before. Without realizing that she had made up her mind to fight back, she kicked out her foot to trip the man as he lunged forward with the machete raised high in the air.

The man lost his weapon in the fall, but now Stella still had to deal with the huge Sasquatch on top of her petite frame.

It was then, with the two of them being so up close and personal, that she realized that the man was shirtless. That alone would have been a distraction, because _damn_ , but it was the symbol tattooed over his heart that made her jaw drop. The height and the hair style had reminded her of somebody, but it was the tattoo that sealed it.

'No freakin' way,' she thought. 'He is a fictional character!'

"Sam?" she whispered painfully through the grip he had on her throat. "Sam W-wi- nchester?"

The man dropped her like a hot rock, backing away is if she had bitten him. He crouched and picked up the machete.

"Who are you?" he asked, no longer shouting, though his tone was still harsh.

'That's it!' Stella thought joyiously, she wasn't in any real danger after all. 'I fell asleep reading _Supernatural_ and now I'm dreaming.'

Stella pushed herself to her feet and tried to get a better look at the man.

"You're even taller in person," she murmured, staring up at him in amazement.

"Fan girl?" Sam asked, his eyes were comically large, the arm wielding the machete trembling ever so slightly.

"I've read most of the books," she replied with a shrug. "I work in a supermarket. Your life is a lot more interesting than mine."

It was Sam's turn to shrug. He also made a face, raising his eyebrows and doing that awkwardly adorable thing with his lips that the books always described. Stella snorted.

"So obviously I'm dreaming," she concluded. "It's strange though, I've always considered myself more of a Dean Girl. I'm a little disappointed that he's not here."

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	3. The One Where Sam Twerks

Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.

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Stella stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom staring at her reflection. Same boring blonde hair refusing to cooperate, same dark circles under the same green eyes, on the same face, with the same beak-like nose…She didn't look any different than she ever had. Except for the anti-possession symbol tattooed over her heart, and that apparently she now wore plaid and slept in combat boots.

'Nope.' She mused, pinching herself for the tenth time to no avail.

She walked out of the bathroom just as Sam rushed in and slammed the door.

'The books do mention his frequent morning poops,' she thought with a chuckle as she pulled on her leather jacket, pocketed her pistol and shouldered her packed duffle bag. Grabbing the car keys, she left a note about going for coffee and headed out into the parking lot in search of the legendary Impala.

It was strange that all of the things in the bags around the bed she had woken up in were perfectly designed for female usage; from the clothes to the pink grips on the pistol under the pillow, to the Pantene shampoo _and conditioner_ that she had found in the shaving kit.

Sam was of the highly detailed theory that somebody was screwing with them. Angels, Demons, he wasn't sure which. Stella thought that the latest _Supernatural_ novel, which she hadn't read yet, might give them some clues. They had used Sam's laptop to track it down at local book store, and were planning to check it out after breakfast.

"Damn." She murmured as she stopped in front of the only vehicle on the lot that matched the description she had read so many times. She'd always wanted to know what it would feel like to sit in the driver's seat of this majestic creature, so she climbed in and turned the key. The engine roared as the car came to life and a smile crossed her face when her favorite classic rock song blasted from the speakers. Stella put the car in gear, feeling as though she had been driving it all of her life. She knew she was a good foot shorter than the books described Dean, but she didn't even have to adjust the seat.

"This is so awesome!" She squealed as she backed out of the parking spot and headed out to a gas station that she somehow knew would be just down the road.

When she returned to the hotel later, she realized that she had forgotten to ask Sam what he wanted and hoped that she had guessed his order correctly.

Entering the room, she was greeted with the sight of Sam Winchester's bare backside as he dropped the towel he had obviously worn out of the shower and started twerking to a beat only he could hear while digging through his bag for clothes to wear. She cursed loudly as she stumbled from the room, slamming the door and spilling hot coffee on herself.

Moments later the door opened and Sam walked out wearing an amused smirk, now fully dressed with his backpack and laptop in tow.

"See anything you like, sweetheart?" he drawled, giving her his best _smolder_.

Stella chose to ignore the flush she felt creeping up her neck.

"Meh," she replied, shrugging her shoulders dismissively. Sam continued to smirk as the two climbed into the Impala and headed into town.

"Was there any coffee left after you finished bathing in it?" Sam asked. Stella handed him his half empty cup without a word. He fell silent for a moment as he took a large swig of the beverage. Then Stella could feel him watching her again. "Let me guess, you learned how I like my coffee from the books too, didn't you?"

"No," Stella answered after a moment. "That wasn't in any of the books I've read. Neither was how to defend one's self from a large man with a machete. Like I said earlier, I have no idea what's going on. This morning I came home from the store, fed my cat, and then I fell asleep reading one of the books, something about Zombie Nazi Vampires? That was some weird shit, by the way."

"Yeah, I remember that one," Sam laughed. "They died just like any other vamps though. Head severance works every time."

"If I weren't driving, my fingers would be in my ears and I would be chanting 'la la la..' can you warn me next time you're about to start with the spoilers? I haven't finished reading the book yet!"

"Sure thing, toots." Sam quipped.

"You're not Dean." A gravelly voice deadpanned from the backseat. The car lurched as Stella slammed her foot on the brake. Sam's laughter could be heard for miles.

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A/N: So, for the purposes of this story the _Supernatural_ novels are being published at regular intervals, in case anybody was wondering. It's set in season 6 because I really enjoyed Soulless Sam, and most if not all of the season's plot is disregarded. As always, thanks to everyone who has been reading, following and reviewing this story. It's appreciated. To anybody new here, review and/or subscribe to find out what happens next!


	4. The One Where Stella Teaches Geography

Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.

* * *

 _"_ _You're not Dean." A gravelly voice deadpanned from the backseat. The car lurched as Stella slammed her foot on the brake. Sam's laughter could be heard for miles._

"Who the hell are you?" Stella demanded, ignoring the honks from the other vehicles on the road forced to pass her now that she had decided to park the Impala in the middle of the highway.

"I am an angel of the Lord." The man in the backseat declared, his eyes narrowed. "And you, imposter, have exactly three seconds before I start smiting."

"Why do people keep telling me that?" Stella demanded rhetorically, "Well hell-o to you too. Castiel, right? I agree with Book Dean, you do come across as a huge dick."

"Though my true form is indeed large, I am not shaped like a phallus."

"Is he going to smite me if I laugh at that?" Stella asked, turning to Sam. She didn't know what it was about the angel that she found so comical; but between the deep gravelly voice, and the lack of familiarity with common concepts and phrases, she was having a difficult time maintaining a straight face in his presence.

"Hard to say."

The angel in the backseat had tilted his head and was studying her closely as though she were a bug beneath his microscope. The feeling was not comforting and she was almost expecting him to bring out a fly swatter, perhaps a can of Raid.

"Stop mocking me, you tiny human!"

"I'm sorry." Stella agreed, failing to stifle her laughter. She was so going to Hell. "It's just…so…easy."

Castiel clearly made his decision to ignore the girl in the driver's seat who was not Dean, and addressed Sam instead. Stella, to the relief of everybody on the road behind her, eased her foot off of the brake pedal.

"I need your help." The angel told Sam. "The state of Texas has broken off straight down Texas highway 44 from Laredo to Corpus Christi. Somehow, despite normal tidal patterns, it has drifted down and around Mexico and is now floating off the coast of California. We think that the Scuba Demons, whom we have long suspected of possessing the Holy Pallet Jack, are somehow involved."

"Dude. There are so many things wrong about that statement." Sam groaned.

"How does a state just break? Are there any fault lines in that area? Plate tectonics or something?"

"I think there might be a fault in that area," Sam answered thoughtfully, "but on the map I can never tell if the line goes through Texas or if it's in Mexico. I'll check it out online when we get to the book store."

"So you think maybe an earthquake? I mean, between the Rio Grande and the Gulf of Mexico, that part of Texas is basically an island already."

"I believe the correct term is peninsula." Sam replied.

"It's really not," Stella shot back. "There's only one peninsula in Texas, and it's in Galveston."

"There was no warning," Cas replied, likely to remind the two of his presence. "A few hours ago there was a massive earthquake. Several people have reported hearing a loud cracking sound."

"So you want us to- what exactly?" Stella asked. All of this sounded insane, it was a little overwhelming for the new comer. "Say we find this 'Magical Pallet Jack', we hand it over and you'll put Texas back together? And where do I even start on these 'Scuba Demons'?"

"We've done weirder," Sam shrugged.

"But now it just sounds like he's making things up."

"It's not a magical pallet jack," Cas replied, he was currently perched between the two front seats watching her like a vulture, if Stella needed to hit the brakes again for any reason, the angel would probably break his vessel's nose on her face. "It's a Holy Pallet Jack. It's the Jack God used in the beginning to put all of the continents where he wanted them."

Stella turned to face the angel, the tip of her nose pressed against the tip of his, and she had only one thing to say.

"Dude. Personal space."

"Sorry," the angel murmured. He rearranged himself in the center of the backseat.

"Thanks."

"So, Cas," Sam made an attempt to get the conversation back on track, "I'm going to need you to explain that whole 'Scuba Demons' thing you mentioned. I hate to admit it, but Stella's right. It really does sound like you're making shit up now."

"What do you not understand? They are just demons who live on the ocean floor."

"Oh, is that all…" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Is it bad that that made sense?" Stella asked.

"Probably," Sam admitted. "You've been here for what, four hours? You're kinda supposed to be stuck in the 'he's cute, but nothing he says makes sense' phase of the game."

"Who is cute?"

"Well, er, I suppose that depends on your personal preferences." Sam laughed nervously. The last time he had encountered a fangirl, Dean had needed to pry her off of him. Though it was true that Stella seemed to have herself under control, he didn't trust the calm. In Sam Winchester's life, calm had always meant that a storm was brewing. "Ya know…Cas isn't bad looking….you've seen me naked, clearly I'm sexy as hell…you're a self-proclaimed Dean Girl…"

"Dean is not here." Cas reminded them helpfully.

"Thanks for that, Cas." Sam snorted.

"You are welcome, Sam."

"Oh, I get it. You think that I should be all doe-eyed and drooly because I'm surrounded by attractive dudes."

"I don't understand that reference."

"Yes, exactly."

"You guys do this a lot then? Well, I don't know what to tell you," Stella's eyes stayed on the road as she spoke. "I'm guessing that I'm under some sort of spell. Ordinarily I think I would probably be having a panic attack. I mean, waking up in a strange location, with a strange man…"

Sam smirked, and Cas eyed the two of them suspiciously

"I just… I know these things, and it's like there are someone else's memories mixed with mine. Like…maybe I'm turning into somebody else entirely."

"That's one theory," Sam agreed. "I'll call Bobby, maybe he can put some feelers out."

"I'll return to Heaven and do some research myself." Cas agreed. He disappeared with a fluttering sound, presumably to do just that.

"And despite all of that," Stella couldn't help the smile that crossed her face, "I'm still super excited to be hanging out with the men behind the characters from my favorite series. You really are stupidly attractive, and when I'm reading there is a little voice inside my head that starts cheering whenever Bobby does something awesome."

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A/n: Thanks to everyone who is continuing to enjoy this. Pardon my enthusiastic use of the exclamation point. As always, I'm surprised by the response and excited by all of the feedback! To anyone new here, welcome! Make sure you review, subscribe, and stay tuned to find out what happens next!


	5. The One With Fairies and Fangirls

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

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Sam was still on the phone when they pulled up to the local book store.

"…..I'll keep an eye on her, Bobby. Yeah, I want to get Dean back too..."

"I'm going to go on inside." Stella told him, reaching behind the seats to get her jacket before climbing out of the car. It was a grey, gloomy day and the sky looked as if it were just waiting to piss all over them.

Sam nodded impatiently and Stella shut her door and strolled into the building, smiling as a little bell jingled and she breathed in the scent of cinnamon and old books.

"Hello dear," An elderly woman with frizzy white hair and crow's feet around her eyes greeted warmly, "Oh me, it is such a dreary day outside. Just makes you want to curl up with some hot tea and a good book, doesn't it? What can I help you with?"

"Well ma'am, my name is Stella and I called earlier about the newest _Supernatural_ novel?"

"Ah, but of course," the lady replied with a smile as she stepped behind a counter and began fumbling with a cart of books, "not too many people looking for that one. Have you read many books in that series?"

"Yeah. I've been reading these books since I was in high school."

"Well," the lady placed her book on the counter, and leaned towards her with a wink, "I've always been quite the Sam-Girl myself."

It was a rare treat to be in the presence of another fan. Though the books had been in circulation for several years now, they just weren't catching on with the public like Stella thought that they should. Then again, that stupid story about a girl and her sparkling vampire stalker hadn't blown up until some big Hollywood director had decided to make a movie out of it, so perhaps there was still hope. However few and far between, the _Supernatural_ fans were a loyal bunch. The two women spent some time hashing out their fan theories, and then with a huge smile on her face, the old book seller left Stella alone with the book she had come for.

Stella knew right away that this wouldn't be like the other books she had read. The front cover featured the usual tall man with long flowing hair but instead of his regular companion, beside him holding a pistol and a flashlight was a blonde girl.

"Oh shit," she murmured as she flipped to the first page and found a flashback from a previous novel.

 _Lord Oberon glared at the spot where the young man had been standing. Three of his best guards lay dead in a heap while four or five others nursed lesser wounds. Oberon felt this development as a personal insult and resolved that he would take revenge on the attractive man who had caused all of this damage._

 _"_ _We will avenge their deaths," he spoke to the confused and broken creatures scattered about the throne room, "this insult will not be allowed to stand."_

 _"_ _You will do no such thing," Oberon's wife spoke, her voice clear, royal and irritated. "I am the one who has been insulted on this day. The boy is of no consequence. I know why it is that you take these young men from the fields. It is an abomination."_

 _"_ _I am sorry that you feel that way." Oberon proclaimed, his own voice devoid of all emotion. He raised his elaborately carved wooden staff above his head, murmured some words in his native tongue, and a bright beam of white light rose from the tip and seemed to burn through the ceiling of the palace and into the sky above. He then looked at his wife, his eyes were solid red and he roared, "for your disobedience, you will be destroyed."_

 _Then he lowered the scepter and the light illuminated his wife. For a moment her bones glowed bright red and were visible through her skin. Then with a burst of flame, all of her skin turned to ash and she crumbled to the floor._

 _"_ _Sweep that up, would you?" Oberon ordered one of his stunned servants once the light had gone out completely. He turned to the rest of his congregation and said to them, "is there anyone else who would wish to speak?"_

 _He was greeted with silence._

 _"_ _What…what will you do to him, sire?" it was a guard who had been with him for a very long time. Oberon knew that the fairy was not questioning his abilities, and was merely inquiring about his plans._

 _"_ _I'm going to grant him a wish." Oberon answered darkly._

Stella felt his presence before he spoke. Though he was surprisingly stealthy for a man with such height, she could sense him looming over her.

"Would a simple, hello, kill you?"

"Hello," Sam murmured, lowering himself into the putrid yellow plaid armchair next to her. Stella stuck out her tongue. "Oh yes, that's very mature. So has the book told you anything interesting?"

"Well," Stella placed a bookmark where she had stopped reading and handed the book to Sam. "Check out the cover."

"It's you."

"Yep. And the book starts with a flashback, what do you know about fairies?"

"We really do not want to mess with fairies." Sam handed the book back.

"Well, apparently a Lord Oberon didn't get what he wanted from Dean, so he wanted revenge. That's interesting. Do you know anything about a wish?"

Sam shook his head, and Stella opened the book to her mark.

Skimming the next few pages, which were mostly Oberon complaining about wanting things done right and having to do them himself, she kept a sharp lookout for Dean's name. Then Oberon caught a break when the man he was after walked out of a coffee shop alone.

 _"_ _Hello there, young man. Say, do you have the time? " Oberon made himself visible in the form of a crinkly old man._

 _Dean looked at his watch and read aloud what it said._

 _'_ _That counts as a favor,' Oberon triumphed inwardly, 'now comes the hard part.'_

 _"_ _Thank you so much. I was afraid I was going to be late for lunch with my Grandson, but it appears that I have plenty of time." Oberon replied. The young man was looking at him like he would just like for the old man to stop talking and leave him alone._

 _"_ _I'm glad I could help," Dean replied, clutching a brown paper bag tightly in his hand._

 _"_ _It is very important that I am on time to this meeting, you see," Oberon was clutching at straws, all he needed to do was ask his question and get an affirmative from this man, and then all of this would be over. "His mother, my daughter has only recently allowed me to be involved in his life, and I don't want to let her down. Do you ever wish that you could go back and live your life differently?"_

 _Oberon smirked at how uncomfortable this conversation was making the other man. He supposed that for a typical street conversation, this had lapsed into overshare territory._

 _"_ _Yeah, I guess."_

 _'_ _It will do,' Oberon congratulated himself on accomplishing his mission. It hadn't taken nearly as long as he had expected. If he hurried, he might even have enough time for another abduction. A vicious smirk peeled itself from his lips, and he could barely contain his glee._

 _"_ _Wish granted."_

 _The man disappeared with a faint 'pop'; the paper bag he had been holding fell to the ground and a muffin rolled out._

"Huh, I was wondering why there was no muffin this morning." Sam pondered when Stella told him what she had just read.

"Really?" Stella looked over at him incredulously, "Your brother has been kidnapped by fairies, and all you care about is a damn muffin?"

Sam shrugged, and Stella frowned at him.

* * *

Castiel, who had been reading over the girl's shoulder since she had opened the book, frowned as well. Earlier in the car he had told them that he was going to Heaven to do some research, and then flown off. He had in fact returned, invisible, to spy on them.

What he had just learned was unfortunate. Castiel really hated fairies. He very much needed to get back to Heaven so he could fight his war with Raphael, why were these Winchesters always getting into trouble? He needed to find somebody to watch out for them when he couldn't be there.

'Yes,' he thought, imagining the arguments they would make if they could hear his thoughts, 'you boys really do need a babysitter.'

Luckily, he already had somebody in mind…but she wouldn't be happy about it.

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A/n: Sooooooooooo...I have no idea where any of that came from, but I like it. I am not up to date on my fairy lore, so if anything is completely wrong, call it artistic license. As always, a special thank you to everyone who has shown any interest in this story. I appreciate you.

So now not only has somebody broken Texas, Dean has been kidnapped by fairies, and Castiel might be up to something nefarious...review and subscribe to find out what happens next!


	6. The One With The Chicken Cutlet

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

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It was a slow night at the Super Stuff Mart. Rain could be heard pounding on the roof of the building, and with the exception of a couple of die-hard regulars, most customers had decided to stay home.

Dean had spent the past two hours stocking the chemical aisle.

"You're not finished with that yet?" demanded Maxwell Wiener. Maxwell was the overnight manager and also the son of Super Stuff Mart CEO, Richard Wiener. In Dean's humble, never requested opinion, both men lived up to their names.

On this particular evening, Max had taken it upon himself to clean the store from top to bottom. That is to say, he was making his employees do it.

Dean gritted his teeth, then pasted a smile onto his face.

"I think this is our spring shipment, sir." He answered, glancing at the few un-opened boxes that were left on his cart. "You know, because spring cleaning is kind of a big deal to some people?"

"Don't be a smart ass, Winchester. I asked a simple question. A 'yes' or a 'no' will suffice."

'Well aren't you just a great big bag of dicks,' Dean thought to himself.

"No sir." He sighed.

"Well then hurry up. I need you to get finished stocking this aisle, then go to the front and wash all of the windows."

"Yes sir."

After watching Max prance away to bother somebody else, Dean finished his work in the aisle and then returned his cart to the back of the store. He debated going on up to the front to wash the windows, but thought better of it. It was time for his break after all.

Decision made, he went to the break room. It was pretty full since most everyone in the store clocked in at the same time, but he saw a couple people that he liked. He filled a cup with coffee before taking a seat next to Brian, his direct supervisor.

"How's it going?" the man said in greeting.

"I can't complain." Dean replied, setting his coffee in front of him and staring at it.

"I can." Brian snorted. "Is it just me, or is Max being a bigger dick than usual this evening?"

Dean glanced over at the girl with the long dark braid who was aggressively coloring a picture of a flower at the table next to them and found himself fascinated by the way she colored a few of the small designs one color before switching to another. It all looked so disjointed, but there were a couple of places on the page where it became clear that she knew what she was doing. He liked watching her take the blank pages and gradually fill them with color as the night progressed. She always managed to bring new prospective to subjects of her artwork, and he suspected that she would be an interesting person to get to know. He'd never spoken to her though, and had rarely seen her when she wasn't wearing headphones.

"Max is being a bigger dick than usual this evening." Dean confirmed, prying his eyes away from the coloring page with some effort.

"I think there might be company coming tomorrow." Carla, a bleached blonde who worked as a cashier pulled out a chair and sat down. "He's got us on our hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards up front."

"You know; this probably is the only time he's ever successfully gotten a girl on her knees." Dean sighed dryly. There might have been a snort from the next table as well.

"Naturally he had to pay for it." Brian added, barely containing his laughter.

"I know I was pretty uncomfortable." Carla admitted, resting her hand on Brian's arm.

This, at least for Dean, was what made this job tolerable. The reason he continued to come back night after night. It wasn't just for the paycheck, which wasn't something a guy with a GED and a 'give 'em hell' attitude could afford to turn his nose up at. No; it was also this easy comradery with these people who stood with him in the face of rude people and douchebag managers, and fought tirelessly every night to ensure that every shelf was stocked and that every late night customer could find his or her salty snacks.

"Hey Winchester," Maxwell's voice filled his ear and he fought to regain enough of his composure so that he could answer back. He pressed the talk button on his earpiece, then released it as he began to giggle. This naturally set Brian and Carla off again.

Dean took a couple of deep breaths and closed his eyes. He couldn't look at his friends or he might start laughing again.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you scrubbing those windows yet?"

"I'm on my way now."

The small group of friends said their 'see you later'-s and split up as they went back to work. Brian made sure to complain over the radio that clearing out the backroom was going to be a pretty difficult if Dean was going to be cleaning windows all night. Maxwell told him to consider it a challenge, and that he was expected to excel.

"Douche!" Brian mouthed as he left the break room. Dean and Carla walked up to the front of the store together.

Dean scrubbed windows outside in the pouring rain until a little after two that morning. He thought that scrubbing windows in the rain was a pretty pointless endeavor, but Max kept coming out to tell him he'd missed a spot. When it was almost time for his meal break, he decided to call the assignment complete. The windows looked pretty good, and Dean was completely soaked. He walked back inside and was about halfway through the store when something exploded.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. One moment he was on his way to the break room thinking only of his Hot Pocket in the freezer, and the next he was on the floor buried beneath what had been a Ramen Noodles display. There was dust everywhere and he could smell smoke. He couldn't tell if the ringing in his ears was from the explosion or the fire alarm. Dean jumped when something cold and slimy hit his shoulder and flopped into his lap with a wet _plop_.

'Oh God,' he thought, squeezing his eyes shut not wanting to look, 'somebody got blown up.'

Slowly he opened on eye just a bit so that he was squinting at the object on his knee. Was that- oh good, it was only a chicken cutlet.

That was when he realized that the water sprinklers were flooding the store, and that the emergency lights were flashing.

"So long, Hot Pocket," he sighed mournfully as he crawled out from beneath the pile of packaged noodles. He then turned and sloshed his way through the accumulating water and out of the store.

To be continued...

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A/n: This was supposed to be a short one dimensional tale of a fangirl meeting her idols, and struggling to exist in their world. However, all of these other characters keep popping up wanting to tell their own stories, and its quickly becoming a small monster...but things are working together pretty well in my head, so I'm gonna go with it. So, be on the look out for some 'head-hopping' in future chapters. As always, thank you all for your interest. I really appreciate all of your reviews, follows and favorites.

Your feed back is important to me. If you like the story so far, review and tell me why. If you don't like the story, again, review and tell me why.

Stay tuned to see what happens next!


	7. The One With The Mystery Baby

Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine.

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As some of the ringing in his ears faded, the blaring fire alarm made itself known. He looked to his right and to his left as he made his way to the front doors, wanting to make sure that nobody was injured or trapped in the aisles. Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he was in a dream. The flickering of the emergency lights, the smell of burning flesh, the sounds- it was surreal.

Outside of the store, most of the customers had rushed to their vehicles and gone home, leaving the employees huddled together on the far end of the parking lot. When Dean arrived, Maxwell was having a panic attack, and Carla was in tears being comforted by the girl who had been coloring in the breakroom.

"…such a failure! I never do anything right…."

"I don't know what happened." The girl, whose name Dean didn't know said quietly when he reached the ladies. "There was just this explosion, and all of the lights went out and the sprinklers came on."

"I could have died!" Carla wailed.

"...merchandise lost…abominable…"

"Who are you?" Dean asked when he finally found his voice.

"Sorry," the girl sighed, giving him a look that questioned his intelligence. "My name is Katelyn. I'm not sure who this little guy is."

That was when Dean noticed the baby in her arms.

"Who loses a kid after an explosion and doesn't even look for it?"

"I'm assuming that whoever it is, they are still searching frantically in all the wrong places." Katelyn replied.

"Sucks for them." Dean agreed, more to himself than for anyone else's benefit.

"…Disgraceful…"

Enough was enough.

"Maxwell, dude, did you start the fire?" Any other time, Dean would have thought twice about speaking to his manager with such a disrespectful tone. Tonight, however, they all kind of needed a swift kick in the pants.

"O-of course not." The man sputtered.

"Then as much as we all hate you, none of this is your fault."

"I- okay then." The manager's face was blank. He blinked several times.

The group shivered in silence as they watched the fire department arrive, the red lights on the trucks illuminating the night.

The sirens woke the baby in Katelyn's arms, and it started to cry.

"Perfect," she sighed as she began to sway back and forth in an effort to sooth the child.

"Maybe he's wet," Maxwell suggested.

"We're all wet." Carla snapped. "It's friggin' raining!"

The night went on and baby continued to cry, Katelyn tried bouncing it up and down.

"This thing had better not throw up on me," she murmured.

Dean's mind kept drifting back to his Hot Pocket in the freezer as he shivered in the dark. He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble for taking his lunch break so late in the night. Surely there were exceptions for disasters like this. Would they even go back inside? He hadn't really seen the extent of the damage.

"Good, you all made it out!" Brian exclaimed, crossing the parking lot with long strides. His black polo shirt was covered with some sort of white powder.

"Brian!" Carla's voice cried out. She ran to the man, who set down the fire extinguisher he was holding, and caught her as she leapt into his arms.

"The meat cooler exploded." Brian told them, his voice muffled by Carla's shoulder. "I grabbed a fire extinguisher."

"That explains the chicken cutlet!" Dean declared to nobody in particular.

"Ooookay. Buddy, you're going to have to explain that one to the class."

"It's not important."

"Ugh, and right at our meal breaks too. I'm starving!" Brian moaned.

"I know, dude, I've got a Hot Pocket in the freezer!" Dean agreed, always happy to commiserate.

"At least we're not on fire," Carla sighed, snuggling closer to Brian and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"There is that," Brian conceded.

"I am not your mommy!" Katelyn's voice rose shrill against the sirens. She was holding the baby at arm's length and blushing furiously. When she realized that everybody had turned and was now staring at her, she pulled the child close and resumed swaying back and forth murmuring that the little shit was getting handsy.

"You okay over there?" Dean asked the girl.

"Peachy."

Soon after, one of the firemen approached the little group of employees and met with Maxwell for a long moment. Then, as the fire department started clearing out, the manager motioned for everyone to circle up around him and began to address the group.

"Is everybody accounted for?" he asked, scrutinizing every face. He stopped at Katelyn and the mystery baby. "Seriously, whose baby is that?"

"No idea, sir. I found him next to the watermelon bins in the produce department when we were evacuating. Honestly, I kind of though his parents would have found us by now."

"Wonderful," the manager sighed. "Anyway, Chief Griffin has just informed me that that tonight's explosion was caused by some faulty wiring in one of the meat coolers."

"I could have told you that," Brian murmured. Carla patted his arm.

"The fire has been contained, but there is still fire extinguisher goo all over the chicken, and about a foot of water over the entire store. Now, once I finish talking, I'm going to release all of you to go take your meal breaks. I know that's all any of you really care about right now."

"Damn skippy," Brian muttered.

"However, once you come back, we're all going to work very hard to clean up this mess. There is going to be a lot of damaged merchandise thanks to the sprinkler system, and it's going to be very important that we get all of it accounted for."

"The claims department is going to be pissed," Carla commented, thinking of the group of crotchety middle-aged women that processed all of the damaged merchandise that passed through the store.

"Maybe we could soak some of the water up with ruined boxes of Maxi Pads," Dean suggested, earning a snort.

"All I know is that I'm seriously going to need a drink when this is all over." Brian declared.

"Agreed," was the general consensus of everybody in hearing distance.

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A/n: So this is basically just the conclusion of chapter 6, but I wanted to post something. It hasn't been edited much yet, so forgive any spelling errors, and feel free to share any horrendous grammar mistakes. It's a bit late, but the thing about life is that it happens and we've just go to roll with it. Next time we get a look at Castiel's dastardly scheme, and maybe find out what Sam and Stella are up to! Thanks for reading!


	8. The One Where Castiel Blackmails A Demon

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

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The sun is low in the sky when Castiel arrives outside of the group of identical buildings. Each is made of red brick, with a staircase and a breezeway in the middle. Most have a balcony.

'This can't be right,' he thinks as he pulls a crumbled Post-It from the pocket of his trench coat. He studies the tiny slip of paper carefully, and decides that his calculations are indeed correct, and that he is where he is supposed to be. He takes a second look, just to clarify exactly which building he is going to.

Number 400.

There is a fluttering sound as his wings engage and soon enough he as at the door of 422.

He knocks.

A giggling girl wearing a dress covered with yellow flowers opens the door. Her face clouds when he asks for Meredith Roarke. The girl is hesitant, but she lets him in and points out Meredith's room.

He knocks again, as he has been informed that this is what humans do before entering another's dwelling. He is trying to play this as close to human as he possibly can.

A girl with purple hair and tattoos covering her arms opens the door and yanks him inside.

"What are you doing here, Castiel?" the girl hisses. Her eyes are yellow, and Castiel understands that she doesn't want the girls in the hall to overhear their conversation.

"I need your help."

"Oh no. That's not how this works. See, I've already helped you, remember? We're even. You need to go."

"I am sorry you feel that way Fiona," Castiel replies. He keeps his voice low, and his tone solemn. He recognizes that the ink patterns covering the girl are protective wards that are shielding her location. With a flip of his wrist, they start dissolving one by one.

"You bastard!"

"You have burned most of your bridges, have you not Fiona? It would be a shame if all of your enemies suddenly knew exactly where you were."

The girl watches helplessly as the last of her wards disappear. Her eyes grow wide and her head turns quickly towards the door and Castiel knows that she is hearing dogs barking in the distance.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to keep an eye on some humans for me. I cannot keep getting them out of trouble all of the time and win this war."

"It won't matter," Fiona says quietly as she looks past him and out the window.

"The protection I offer will be even stronger than a few ounces of magical ink."

"If I do this- that is, if I help you again- That's it for me. There is no going back."

"I think we are already past that point, Fiona. You opened the gates and allowed heaven's armies to enter the pit and rescue the Righteous Man. You rebelled against Hell, and then you went into hiding. You are already past the point of no return. Help me with this and I will give you what you asked for two years ago."

"I- you know, this is what humans refer to as blackmail."

"Those dogs sound pretty close, do they not?"

"Damn it all, Castiel! Fine."

"I need a little more than that, Fiona."

"What, do you want to kiss? This isn't a crossroads deal, you know." The girl's voice rises as she looks at the bedroom door in terror and quickly tries to put as much distance between it and herself as she can. "I've got hell hounds literally right outside my door. You're the one holding all of the cards here!"

Castiel sets his jaw and refuses to be swayed from the point. A deal with a demon is not official without an exchange of bodily fluids. He is not excited about this aspect, but it has to be done.

"We have a deal, yes?"

The angel was determined to do this, and maybe it was the hounds baying at her door, but he can tell by the tension in the demon's stance that she will relent.

"Yes," she sighed, her shoulders slump in defeat as she moves forward and around her bed to meet him in the middle. "We have a deal."

Reformed or not, Castiel cannot bring himself to touch the demon, and he sees that she is not enthusiastic about this either. The two of them make great efforts to keep their bodies from touching as they bend at the waist in an effort to make only their lips touch. They miss and fall forward, landing in a tangled heap on the bed.

The demon's head jerks as the door bursts open.

'It is the hounds,' Castiel thinks. He is pressed hard into the mattress as the demon hastily completes the kiss. It is not an entirely unpleasant experience.

"Um, M- Meredith?" A new voice speaks. In the doorway is a girl. She is not the one that Castiel met at the front door. This one has a long blonde braid and she is wearing a strapless pink dress. She has a strange look on her face. Castiel does not understand why. "Is everything okay in here? Steph and I were getting ready to leave for the garden party when the door burst open."

The demon wiggles herself free of Castiel's embrace and straightens her skirt as she stands up.

"Everything's fine, Nicole. My friend Castiel and I were just getting to know each other again. I guess we forgot to close the door all the way." The demon speaks with remarkable calm for one who has so narrowly escaped the grasp of Hell. "I'm sorry we disturbed you."

"Alright. See you later then."

"'Kay, bye now! Oh, close the door behind you, would you?"

"I forgot about that damned garden party," the demon groans once the human girl is gone.

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A/n: So there's that. I imagine Castiel's POV as being pretty simplistic. Thank you all for reading!


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